


Fly

by GeorginoschkaVincen



Category: One Piece
Genre: Drama, Flashback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 04:44:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4166352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeorginoschkaVincen/pseuds/GeorginoschkaVincen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flying is easy if you know how to do it, but the fall hurts more than you might think</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fly

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little fanfic/drabble on Doflamingo and the first time he uses his strings to fly

“I am going to do it!” he grins, eyes sparkling. “I am going to fly!”

Vergo furrows his brow but attempts a nervous smile which only causes a weird grimace to appear on his face. Of course Doflamingo doesn’t listen to him as he tries to talk him out of this.  
“I don’t think that is a good idea. The house is…it is a rather tall building.”

The fall would be fatal. Broken bones, if he was lucky. Death,if he was not so lucky.

The building is one of the tallest in the city. Old, half rotten, probably about to fall apart in the next few months. They are standing on the rooftop, near a gaping hole that goes several feet down. Vergo can't make out the ground, but he can see a few plants worming their way through the rotten wood.

That won’t make the fall any more pleasant.

Doflamingo is standing on the other side of the roof, the wind rustling through his hair and his clothes, which hang loosely from his thin frame.  
  
He is grinning wide.  
  
Vergo can’t see the eyes that are hidden behind the glasses, but he is sure Doflamingo is just as nervous as he felt.  
  
This is a bad idea.

“We don’t know if it works.” he begins, wringing his hands. “Doffy, I really think we should get down again.”

He is no one to chicken out if it comes to a fight, and he certainly isnt afraid of many things - living on the streets has taught him to be tough, for it was requiered to survive - but this…

He really has a bad feeling about this.  
  
“It’s going to be alright! I can do this!” Doflamingo yells over the noise of the wind. “I know how to!”

He grins.  
Takes one step forward.

Vergo is sure his heart is missing several beats.

“Doffy!”

He reaches out, his frantic voice almost drowned by the wind.

Doflamingo grins wide, his hands reaching up to the sky. Vergo can’t see the strings but he knows they are there, reaching for the clouds.  
  
He is falling.

Doflamingo stumbles a little, his fall being stopped by the strings. He moves himself upwards again, like a puppet that is controlled by its strings. It is the case, in some strange sort of way.

“I am flying!” He grins wide, his fingers moving fast as he shoots out strings, latches them to the clouds. It looks weird, clumsy, as if he is about to fall over himself any moment, but his grin is wide and real.

Vergo takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. He has to sit down because his legs won’t support him anymore, and he watches Doflamingo as he flies through the air over the hole in the roof, laughing while the wind is grabbing at his clothes.

A grin forms on Vergo’s lips, and he begins to realize what he sees.  
Doflamingo is flying.  Flying for real! Like a bird, through the sky!  
  
Doflamingo laughs louder, his strings up at the clouds which begin to move with the wind. The sun is out again soon enough, and the sky seems clearer. Maybe it won’t rain after all.  
  
Doflamingo  moves higher and higher, and soon Vergo can’t tell him apart from the birds in the sky.

Vergo opens his mouth, wants to tell him that this is the most badass thing he has ever seen, but then he hears Doflamingo yelp.

A hand outstreched to the sky, his legs  useless as he tries to find footing where only air is greeting him.  
  
The clouds are gone.

There is nothing to hold on to.  
  
He falls.  
  
This time without strings to support his fall.

“Vergo!”  
  
Pure panic.  
  
He hits the roof way too fast, near the hole, and he groans in pain before a small part of the roof gives in under him.

A hand is reaching out for him, but it is too late,Doflamingo is already falling down.

Vergo jumps up, on his knees, his hand outstreched to grab Doflamingo, but he is too far away and falling too fast. Vergo can’t reach him with his hand.

The whole world seems to stand still as he watches Doflamingo crashing down several feet below him, all sounds and noises drowned out by the wild beating of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears.

“Doffy!”

His legs move faster than his mind can process. He runs over the roof, stumbles, nearly falls, gets up again, stumbles.  
The wind is trying to push him back, but he fights, runs to the old stairs made of wood.

“Doffy!” he yells again, over and over, as he jumps over old wooden parts and stone, as he pushes away plants and old curtains.

He gets no answer.

He feels sick.

Vergo reaches the ground and his knees are shaking. His whole body is shaking.

The spot where the roof has a hole is bright, dim sunlight shining through the hole, lighting up the scenery. it almost looks peaceful.  
Vergo can see the dust floating in the air, but he doesn’t stop to appreciate the beauty of the moment.

He fights his way through old wooden plates and plants,carelessly pushes them aside and out of his way until he reaches the spot where Doflamingo has fallen.  
  
There is so much blood.  
  
Everything is soaked in red.

“Doffy!”

He falls down on his knees, his body shaking so badly that he can’t breath. His throat feels too tight.

Doflamingo’s eyes are half-lidded, unseeing, and every shallow breath he takes is followed by an unhealthy rattling sound.

“Doffy…”  
This is his fault.  
He should have stopped him.  
They should have never come here.

“Doffy…”  
He can see bones piercing through the pale skin, can see blood seeping through the clothes.

Vergo reaches out, his hand on Doflamingo’s bloody chest, hoping to stop the bleeding, but all he feels are broken bones.

He sobs, clenching his eyes shut as he leanes forward, his forehead on Doflamingo’s chest, his hands grabbing the fabric of his shirt.

_Don’t die,don’t die, don’t die…_

Something moves underneath his hands. Vergo sniffs, and leanes up a little, confused by the movement.

He can’t believe his eyes as he sees the skin knitting itself together with invisible strings, the body patching itself up as if Doflamingo was just a piece of clothing instead of a living body. Broken bones were mended back into place, skin sewed shut until not even a scar is left.

Vergo can only watch with wide eyes as Doflamingo’s body is left without any mark, as if nothing has happened at all.

He has never seen something like this before.  
Never in his life.

“You truly are our king…” he whispers, and there is awe in his voice.  
Most of all,though, he is relieved that Doflamingo is alright again.

The fall is like a bad dream now, and Vergo lies down next to Doflamingo, takes his hand in his own and curls up beside him,listening to his now steady breathing that is like music to Vergo’s ears.

He falls asleep like that, with Doflamingo’s hand firmly clasped in his own, not letting it go.

Later Doflamingo doesn’t remember any of this. Vergo doesn’t tell him that he fell, or that his body healed itself.  
A broken body was easy to mend with strings, but a concussion took its time to heal properly.

Neither Trebol nor Diamante say anything as Vergo returns with a blood-soaked Doflamingo.  
They are angry with Vergo, though, he knows that, for not watching out enough for their king. They do not yell at him,however.

It is months later that Doflamingo sits on the floor, his eyes wide with awe and a little bit of disgust as he watches his own flesh knit together.  
Vergo walkes into him as he cuts through his own skin, a grin on his lips as the strings pull the skin back together, leaving no trace of the cut.

He looks almost mad as he sits there with the bloody knife in his hand, fascinated by his own powers.

Doflamingo looks up at Vergo, and there is a wide grin on his lips.  
“I truly am a god.”

His voice is calm and Vergo cannot see his eyes.  
Whatever little bit of humanity he has possessed once has left him now. It is not easy to accept that fact.  
It’s almost a bit scary.

It is much later, years later, when they sit together on the ship, after a rough fight where many are left wounded, that Doflamingo looks up at the sky and says.  
“You know, I never had a problem with being a monster.”  
Vergo wonders why he would say something like that.  
Hasn’t he been calling himself a god all the time?  
Doflamingo grins and leans towards him, and Vergo doesn’t get to ask any questions after that.  
  
Now Doflamingo is falling again.  
It is just like thirty years ago, where he was falling down the hole in the roof, his strings cut loose, his hands outstreched to grab anything to hold on to but finding nothing.

He reaches out, his heart hammering inside his chest as fear grips his throat ,trying to suffocate him.

There are pink feathers everywhere.

It is not Vergo who is looking down at him, offering him a hand, trying to stop his fall.  
It is Strawhat looking down on him this time, the one who sent him down.

He feels as helpless as he has back then.  
The name he wants to scream is stuck in his throat, only one word leaves his lips as his glasses shatter and are blown off of his face.

“NO!”  
He hits the ground harder than anticipated, but he barely feels the pain.


End file.
